


Matters of the Soul

by Animalium



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Budding Love, Dementor's Kiss, Depression, F/M, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Hopeful Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 00:33:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17991488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Animalium/pseuds/Animalium
Summary: When Lucius Malfoy receives a fate worse than death, Narcissa turns to an old, family friend in her time of need.Prequel to Potions and Perennials.





	Matters of the Soul

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one shot that was posted as part of a Facebook contest.  
> Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling.  
> Picture painted by me.

..

Narcissa’s stare was vacant, fixed on an invisible space in front of her. She wasn’t lost in the image of an object, not even him, but that of memories. She held no regard for her surroundings, seeming just as lost as her husband. She was lost in the folds of her emerald green robes, her typically perfect hair now falling haphazardly around her face. The prowess she embodied having disappeared completely. If Severus hadn’t known better, he would have assumed they had taken her too.

“Its done?” The question was foolish. He had known where she set off to this morning. Why he had been collected to watch over Draco. He hadn’t been immune to the whispers, the wonderings of the wizarding world around them. He had seen the way the “Malfoy” name had been slandered in the papers. Most importantly, he’d seen how it destroyed Narcissa.

“He’s gone, yes.” She rattled, a pitch above a whisper. Her eyes focused slightly as they fell on him. She gave a series of blinks before clearing her throat. “Draco, he behaved?”

“As well as a three-year-old can. He’s sleeping.” Silence passed between them again as she stared through the void that seemed to be his existence. Severus straightened from the tufted, crimson leather chair he had reclined in, placing his still full tumbler on the broad table beside him. “You need rest, to-“

“I am not a child, Severus.” Narcissa glanced down, fumbling with the cloth of her gloves, rolling it between her fingers. It was the one act that betrayed her nervousness, the one habit she was unable to rid herself of. An inexcusable act for a Black.

He approached her, running a strand of fallen blonde hair behind her ear. “I am at your disposal. Should the boy-“

“Draco. He has a name.”

He smirked at her abrasiveness. “Should _Draco,_ should _you_ need my help-“

“We have Posny if help becomes necessary.”

“Did your mother never tell you it was rude to interrupt?” Severus’ voice was harsh, having dipped below his typical double bass, but the glint in his eye, the twitch of the right corner of his lips, betrayed him. “I’d like to think my presence is better than a simple house elf.”

It was a statement that under usual circumstance would have baited her, would have earned him a glare and an even smarter remark, but he received nothing. She was gone.

“Was yours taken, too?”

Her breath hitched at his comment. It wasn’t entirely a fair question, but he never did fair. “Severus, how could you ever…” Her voice trailed into nothingness and her eyes dropped to the marble floor beneath her black stilettos. The shoes seemed to a spur her on, provide some source of inspiration and she met his eyes with a glare that wasn’t there before. “You’ve never-”

The end of her sentence was obvious to him, one he’d heard before, one he didn’t care to hear again. She had made her opinions more than well known in the past. “I have, perhaps in a way that isn’t up to your… _standards.”_ He glanced at the mansion around him, the motifs adorning every black, wood wall, the furniture that spelled “pretention”. It was a show of status. Even if love lingered within these walls, they hadn’t been there in the beginning.

The sentence was enough, and he was placed so closely in front of her that she crumpled into him. His arms came around her slender waist, providing the only support that was keeping her upright. Her wails were soft, muffled against the fabric of his frockcoat. His lips pressed into a thin line and although rigid, he remained in his position.

“He was limp.” The voice was broken, soft, uncharacteristically hers.

Severus was quiet. At first, trying to decipher what she had said into his chest and next as he decided on the appropriate response. He had never been a witness to the act, but the horrors were well known. The fact that she had fought to be at Lucius side amazed him, but then, knowing how he had fallen to Lily’s side, had cradled her cold and lifeless body, he understood.

“They took more than his soul.” She continued before Severus could say a word. Her head had been raised from his chest enough that her words were clear, but he was still unable to meet her gaze. “His eyes…he was nothing but a shell. He didn’t even recognize me.”

“That tends to be the case under the circumstances of the kiss.”

“I know, _I know._ I went there knowing what was going to happen, but seeing it-“ Her voice broke entirely, shutting off her own words. Her face was lifted enough that he could see the tears spilling down her cheeks. She was right, loath as he was to admit it, he _had_ “never”, not in the way she had. Lily didn’t count.

Severus pressed her to his chest again, tightening his hold despite his usual revulsion of human touch. He felt a sting of selfishness, a desire to say something, but it could only hurt her. He was disgusted in himself as one sentence ran through his mind on repeat, that maybe _now_ he had a chance.

 

 

 

 


End file.
